Finally Alanna dozed off in her chair, waking slightly as Liam carried her to bed. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “Sleep well, Lioness.”
“I don’t like being ‘Lioness’ to you.” He didn’t seem to hear. Gently Liam closed the door, and she slept again.
She woke instantly some time later. What had roused her? She listened, but the house was silent. Looking around, she saw a blot of brownish light by the window. Lightning hung nearby; she lunged and unsheathed it as the blot gained size and substance.
“Put that thing down,” a familiar voice snapped. “I haven’t hurt you.”
“Thom?”
Even before he finished materializing, he glowed enough for her to see his features. Crossing his arms on his chest, he lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you have any nightshirts?” Liam had removed only her boots and stockings.
Alanna jumped up and grabbed her twin, holding him tightly. Thom’s embrace was as hard as her own. He buried his too-hot face in her shoulder.
“Thom, what’s wrong? D’you have a fever?” Her voice faltered. “You’re … glowing…”
He gripped her shoulders. “Calm down! The heat’s part of it, so just—calm down.” He touched the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes, traced the hard line of a cheekbone, smoothed over the thin crease that edged her mouth. He too had lines that weren’t his before, and he was even thinner than she. He looked tired—mortally tired. On impulse she touched the ember-stone at her throat.
With the talisman’s aid she saw that Thom shone with a rust-red fire, the color of old blood. “How do I look?” he whispered, knowing the ember’s properties.
She tried to smile. “You don’t want to know.” Swallowing, she added, “It’s as if you have another Gift, or your own is—”
“Corrupted,” Thom finished. “Enough. We’ll trade stories later. You look half dead.” He smoothed her hair with a shaking hand. “I just wanted to look at you, and see if … if you forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she insisted. “You did me a favor. Now I can talk with him. I can see for myself if I made a mistake when I—you know. If he could’ve redeemed himself, somehow.”
“Nice try,” he scoffed in his old way. “I think you could’ve lived with it if he’d stayed in his tomb.”
“But it’s true,” she protested.
“Go back to bed, all right?” He began to fade. “Get some rest.” He vanished.
She stared at the spot where he’d been. Did anyone else know Thom was dying? Couldn’t they have warned her? But what was there to warn about—besides the fact that he glowed in the dark?
Her eyes blurred; she sniffed. Was Myles still up? Slipping barefoot out of the room, Alanna made for the library, Myles’s favorite room. The library door was open. She froze on the landing, not wanting to intrude on any private reunions.
“I couldn’t get away sooner.” The deep voice was Jonathan’s. “We don’t have parties because we’re in mourning, but these ‘quiet get-togethers’ take hours, all the same.”
“You should’ve waited.” Alanna recognized George’s lilt. “She fell asleep in her chair, poor thing. She’s weary. They all are.”
“And there’s little rest for my lady knight here,” Jonathan sighed.
“Does he know she’s back?”
“He knows. I just don’t—what?”
George came out and bowed to Alanna, indicating she should go into the library. Pushing her inside, he closed the door, leaving her alone with Jon.
He stood before the hearth, cradling Faithful. She’d forgotten he was a head taller than she. His black clothes emphasized his sapphire eyes; his mustache and hair were darker than his velvet tunic. She looked at his elegantly carved mouth and straight nose, thinking, Jon’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen—and that includes Roger! He’d changed since their angry parting; his face had stubborn lines, and there was a seriousness about him she liked.
Deeply moved, she knelt and bowed her head. “My liege. I am yours to command.”
He put his hands on her hair. “You’re sure, Alanna?”
She met his eyes. “Until death and after, Jonathan.”
He swallowed. “I accept your fealty, Sir Alanna. I accept, and I vow to return fealty with fealty, honor with honor, until death and beyond it.” Lifting her to her feet, he kissed each cheek. The kingliness faded. “You don’t know what it means to have you home.” His eyes filled suddenly. “He killed himself, Alanna. He made it look like a hunting accident, but it wasn’t. Oh, gods! Why did I have to lose both of them?” He covered his face with his hands and cried. Alanna held him, shushing him and weeping herself.
When he was calm again and she had dried her tears, Alanna said, “We may not have another chance to be alone for a while. What do you want me to do with the Jewel?”
Jonathan drew a deep breath. “You really have it?”
“I’ll get it, if you like.” She tried to pull away, and Jonathan tightened his arms.
“Not yet, all right? This is so comfortable. It’s been almost a year since I held you, remember?” He sighed and released her. “Keep it safe, for now. I need to think of a way to present you—and it—suitably.” He smiled briefly. “You don’t know how much it means to be able to tell people we have the Dominion Jewel. Perhaps it will even stop the rumors of a curse.”
A short time later, George rejoined them. “All’s well, then?” Alanna and Jonathan smiled at each other. “At last,” George sighed. “I never felt right when you two were on the outs with each other. We were havin’ tea,” he told Alanna. “Will you join us?” At her nod, he got a third cup and filled it from a kettle on the hearth, refreshing Jonathan’s cup and his own. “It’s Copper Isle Red Griffin,” he explained to Alanna, who squinted at the scarlet liquid. “The taste grows on you.”
Jonathan raised his in a toast. “To old friends, the best friends.”
“So mote it be,” Alanna replied.
“Hear, hear,” George added.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” a low female voice exclaimed.
Jon turned to the door and froze, eyes widening in awe. “Great Merciful Mother!” he breathed.
A tousled Thayet stood there, clutching a dressing gown at her throat. “Faithful woke me up, and then I couldn’t sleep.” The cat jumped into Alanna’s lap, startling her. She hadn’t even seen him leave. Thayet, flustered, avoided Jon’s eyes as she tried to tuck her bare feet under the hem of her robe. Alanna concealed a grin with her hand.
George drew the princess into the room. “We’re havin’ a bit of tea,” he told her, closing the door. “There’s a seat by the fire—over next to Jon.”
The king-to-be stood and raised Thayet’s hand to his lips. Their eyes met; Thayet’s puzzled, his searching. Quickly the princess drew her hand away, saying dryly, “We haven’t been introduced.”
Alanna couldn’t speak until she could master her amusement. Already Thayet had Jon off balance, and already they seemed attracted to each other. I knew it! she told herself triumphantly. I knew I was right to bring her!
“Thayet jian Wilima,” George said, eyeing Alanna, “may I present Jonathan of Conté? Are you officially ‘king’ now, Jon, or does that wait till the coronation?”